


First Starlight

by meriberries



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Found Family, M/M, Starlight Celebration (Final Fantasy XIV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:33:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28681878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meriberries/pseuds/meriberries
Summary: The catch in Thancred’s chest settles into a deep ache as it hits him that this is the first time he’s celebrated Starlight since arriving in the First. It’s not that he’s avoided it, really, it’s just that he’s always been busy with one thing or another, and usually by the time he thinks of Starlight, any occasion for celebrating has long passed.He also hasn’t had anyone to celebrate itwith.
Relationships: Urianger Augurelt/Thancred Waters
Comments: 5
Kudos: 56





	First Starlight

**Author's Note:**

> [ao3 i am home now, and i am in the ffxiv fandom and also writing gay dads?](http://www.harkavagrant.com/index.php?id=120)
> 
> this is super late because it decided to be waay longer than anticipated, but i hope it comes as a nice surprise for anyone who was lamenting the end of starlight fic season. also, apparently it is now canon that starlight isn't celebrated in the first, but i started writing this before i read a certain letter from the starlight event, so enjoy an au in which the exarch saw people miserable and suffering and went "hmm how can i bring a spot of joy to these people's lives," realized they were in the sixth umbral moon, and said "let there be starlight"
> 
> huge thanks to [Abby | xenosaurus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xenosaurus/pseuds/xenosaurus) for her help with this fic and also yelling in eden with me every week, i love her

Thancred sighs as he drops his gunblade inside the double doors and stretches his arms up towards the ceiling, glad to be rid of the weight. He’s always impressed, and a bit embarrassed, by the extravagance the Exarch treats them to when they’re able to stay in the Crystarium. As he looks around the room, Minfilia rushes excitedly towards the window before hesitating, turning slightly back towards Thancred with a silent question.

Thancred nods. “You can open the window, Minfilia,” he assures her, “although it’s not like you’ve never seen snow before.”

“But I don’t get to see it very often,” she replies quietly as she cracks the window open and leans her arms on the windowsill. “And it’s so beautiful…”

Thancred can’t argue with that, so he doesn’t. Instead, he takes his coat off and drapes it over Minfilia’s shoulders so she doesn’t catch cold in the open window. Minfilia starts at the heaviness of the coat, and perhaps the unexpectedness of the gesture, before pulling it closer around herself.

Satisfied that Minfilia won’t freeze to death, Thancred sinks into a couch and silently curses the constant light outside for betraying no suggestion as to the time of day. Not that he doesn’t have an idea, mind, but he’d like to _know._ He catches himself glancing at the suite doors more than once, as if they might reveal the time to him—or, more likely, render the time unimportant.

He’s not sure how long it is before Minfilia is gently pressing his jacket into his hands. “Do you think the pixies might be holding him up?” she asks as she settles into the other end of the couch. Thancred exhales and tosses the jacket over a nearby chair, trying to hide his scowl.

“They bloody well best _not_ be,” he huffs in a tone that he might describe as petulant coming from anyone else. “He’ll be in trouble, too, you know, for letting them.”

“I do pity whosoever incurreth thy wroth, Master Thancred,” comes a voice from the door, and both occupants of the room perk up in its direction.

“Urianger!” Minfilia cries delightedly, jumping up off the couch and running to assault the new arrival with a hug.

Urianger places a hand on her head and smiles down at her warmly. “I have missed thee, child.” Thancred doesn’t miss the way he glances over at him, too.

“If you keep calling me Master Thancred, that wroth will be directed towards you,” he replies with his own small smile as he gets up to join them.

“Ah, so quickly dost thou find new reason to quarrel with me.” Urianger sighs and shakes his head. “I would have thee know that I dallied not with the pixies in Il Mheg, but rather found myself pursued by a small contingent of the Eulmoran army, with whom I was forced to contend in order that we might avoid continued espionage... If thou dost find the reason for my delay satisfactory.”

Thancred doesn’t take the bait. “I feel bad for the Eulmorans,” he quips, leaning against the table to indulge in the Pendants’ refreshments, suddenly hungry now that anxiety isn’t twisting his stomach into knots.

“Urianger, shall I take your things to your quarters?” Minfilia offers as he sets down his star globe and small traveling pack.

Minfilia probably doesn’t notice, but Thancred is intrigued by the way Urianger’s face reddens ever so slightly. “The fine gentleman managing the suites kindly suggested that we three might share occupance of a single room during our present stay,” he explains with admirable composure.

“Oh!” Minfilia quickly double-checks the number of beds in the room, then nods in understanding. “That’s alright, Thancred and I are used to sharing a bed.”

Thancred lacks his companion’s composure, although once he’s able to stop choking on his apple and get the words out, he likes to think his response is admirable. “That’s alright, Minfilia, it’s important that your amenities are as comfortable as possible when we have a chance to rest like this.”

Minfilia seems to size up Urianger’s height skeptically, but is persuaded well enough when Urianger assures her that “neither am I a stranger to engaging in sleeping arrangements with Thancred.” Thancred hides his face in his hand as he contemplates how someone who adds modesty panels to his attire can be so shameless in conversation.

Urianger squints at him while Minfilia bounces over to claim her bed. “Thou art not flustered by the act of sharing a bed, yet thou art ashamed to speak of it?” he prods. Thancred glares at him, pretty sure he’s not imagining the hint of mirth in Urianger’s voice.

“Who says I’m _not_ ashamed to share a bed with you?” he mutters under his breath.

Urianger quirks an eyebrow, but Thancred is spared further embarrassment by a knock at the door.

“Welcome, my friends,” the Exarch says warmly as Minfilia lets him into the room. “Full glad am I that you all have been able to spare time and vigilance to join us for this year’s celebration.”

“We are ever grateful for thy hospitality, Exarch,” Urianger bows. “’Tis our honor to partake of the respite thou so generously providest.”

“Ah, please, make no mention of it,” the Exarch responds quickly. “In fact, I was hoping I might impose upon you to borrow Minfilia for a bell—Lyna has been quite anxious to see her, and I am sure the rest of the guard would be delighted as well, if you are able to spare the time?”

Minfilia’s eyes shine as she looks up at Thancred hopefully. “Oh, please, can we see Lyna and everyone?”

Thancred smiles and gestures towards her coat, which she eagerly dons. “Why don’t you go ahead with the Exarch while I help Urianger get settled in,” he suggests.

The look that crosses Minfilia’s face is difficult to decipher, but she quickly brightens when the Exarch holds out his good hand to her, and she's so excited to see her friends that _she_ almost starts to lead _him_ into the hallway.

The Exarch pauses in the doorway and poses a question to Thancred and Urianger. “Would it be amenable to propose that we meet in the Exedra at, say, the fifth bell?”

Urianger nods. “Aye, we look forward to the appointed hour.” The Exarch smiles and nods in agreement before disappearing after Minfilia.

Once the door closes behind them, Thancred goes back to glaring at Urianger, who regards him in turn with what might be amusement. As soon as he opens his mouth to speak, however, Urianger swiftly closes the gap between them and presses his lips to Thancred’s with no small amount of passion, and it’s not really Thancred’s fault if he moans instead of saying something clever.

“If thou art truly ashamed to be my bedmate,” Urianger murmurs against his lips, “I shall make with all haste to procure mine own lodgings.”

“Don’t you dare.”

* * *

“Thou speakest as though the Crystarium were a bastion of crime,” Uriganer says, annoyed, as he holds Thancred’s breastplate out of reach.

“For the love of—is being prepared a bad thing, Urianger?”

“Nay, but never would the Exarch allow harm to befall the Crystarium, and thus thou must needs prepare for naught. ’Tis highly impractical, and thou shouldst take thy _rest_ unburdened by the weight of battle gear nor the vigilance it doth inevitably instill.”

Thancred glares him down for several more seconds before throwing his hands up in defeat. “Fine, but it’s you who has to deal with it if we’re attacked and I’m without my armor,” he warns as he looks around for his shirt.

“I do not believe I would be unequal to the task, were the necessity to arise,” Urianger replies dryly.

Thancred sighs in resignation. “I’ve just got to put my boots on, then, so grab your cloak and we can go.”

“I shall remain quite comfortable as I am.”

Thancred turns to squint and confirm that, yes, Urianger’s attire still consists of a sleeveless tunic with a wide-open back. “Urianger, it’s snowing outside.”

Urianger maintains a neutral face, but his eyes flick to his traveling pack quickly, and Thancred is too well-trained to miss it. He glances at the pack himself for a moment before looking back to Urianger. “Gods, man, did you forget your cloak? In the middle of the winter?”

“As well thou knowest, seasons cycle not in Il Mheg as they do elsewhere on this shard,” Urianger retorts stiffly. “’Twas mild when I departed hither from Timh Gyeus.”

“You can’t possibly ask me to believe that you left for a Starlight celebration without thinking to grab your cloak.”

Urianger clears his throat. “I may have been preoccupied with making haste.”

Thancred’s mood instantly shifts from baffled amusement to alarm and he rushes forward to take Urianger’s hand, worst-case scenarios flashing through his mind. “Did the Eulmorans find you in _Il Mheg?_ ” His heart sinks; if they can’t return to the Bookman’s Shelves, Urianger will be—

“ _Nay._ ” Urianger avoids eye contact and blushes while Thancred’s own adrenaline rush begins to ebb. “If thou must needs know, I was… impatient to hasten the moment of our meeting. Indeed, thou canst but imagine how irked I did become when I discovered the vile presence of the Eulmoran soldiers upon my course.”

Thancred melts with relief, and refuses to believe that he’s also blushing as he snorts and turns to fetch his boots. “Irked, right. Now I _really_ feel bad for the Eulmorans.”

“Prithee do _not,_ ” Urianger replies sourly.

Thancred smiles at him before sitting down to pull on his shoes. “Well, lucky for you, I think I brought along an extra jacket. The sleeves might be a bit short, but, it’s better than nothing.”

When he looks up from lacing a boot, Urianger is staring at him in horror. “Thou propoundst that I don thy rugged and ill-fitting coat o’er mine own subtle vestments?”

“You’re more concerned with your appearance than your health? Truly?”

“Nay, I—” Thancred raises an eyebrow and Urianger’s shoulders fall slightly as he accepts his logic. “Very well, I shall do as thou entreatest.”

Thancred finishes lacing up his boots and pushes off the couch to retrieve his spare jacket. Urianger reluctantly pulls it on, and as he does so, Thancred belatedly realizes that he’s made a terrible mistake.

“Thancred?” Urianger asks in surprise. “Art thou well?”

Thancred doesn’t trust himself to say anything as he absorbs the reality of Urianger Augurelt wearing his coat, which, he might add, fits him _very_ snugly.

He turns away. “Does it, ah—is it comfortable enough?”

A gentle hand on his shoulder turns him back around. Thancred can’t quite bring himself to meet Urianger’s eyes, but unfortunately, that means his own take it upon themselves to linger over the way his jacket hugs Urianger’s shoulders and biceps.

“Oh,” Urianger says, and Thancred hates that he can _hear_ the smug smile in voice. “ _Isne eom,_ I can assure thee that I would find no garment more suitable to temper the icy chill of this winter’s eve.”

Thancred huffs in embarrassment. “Well, it’s not doing you any good in here—let’s go meet Minfilia, we’re already late. This is starting to become a habit for you, you know.”

“Two isolated occasions do not a habit make,” Urianger replies, sounding miffed.

Thancred smiles as he opens the door and dramatically gestures for Urianger to go through first. “Not _yet,_ ” he says with a wink.

As they make their way downstairs, Urianger pointedly enumerates the number of times _Thancred_ has been late. At one point, Thancred opens his mouth to retort, but instead his breath catches in his chest as they cross the Quadrivium and the huge Starlight tree adorning the center of the Exedra comes into view. It towers over the plaza; if they were up on the catwalks, they would be at eye level with the dazzling star perched atop its peak. Its full, almost fluffy-looking branches are a characteristic Lakeland purple, and decorated with such an assortment of ornaments that it _should_ feel eclectic, but instead it just feels… homey.

The catch in Thancred’s chest settles into a deep ache as it hits him that this is the first time he’s celebrated Starlight since arriving in the First. It’s not that he’s avoided it, really, it’s just that he’s always been busy with one thing or another, and usually by the time he thinks of Starlight, any occasion for celebrating has long passed.

He also hasn’t had anyone to celebrate it _with._

Thancred draws a bit closer to Urianger as they make their way through the crowd thronging the Exedra. But when he catches sight of Minfilia in front of the tree, eyes alight with joy as the Exarch speaks to her while pointing to different ornaments, he takes a deep breath and steels his resolve. _Gods, pull yourself together, man!_ It may be his first Starlight on the First, but it’s Minfilia’s first Starlight _ever,_ and she’s a _child._ Thancred needs to put aside his own bitterness and homesickness to make sure that Minfilia enjoys her first Starlight experience to the fullest.

“...and she made me promise not to tell anyone, but you can keep a secret, yes, Minfilia?” the Exarch is saying conspiratorially as they draw within earshot. Minfilia giggles and nods excitedly, but Thancred clears his throat.

“I don’t mean to spoil the fun, but I don’t fancy giving Lyna a reason to chase me down with her chakrams because I know something I shouldn’t,” he interrupts.

“Thancred!” Minfilia says, turning around in excitement. Her fluffy pink coat really is adorable; he’ll have to remember to thank the Exarch for helping them pick it out.

“Have you been good for the Exarch and Lyna?” he asks her, patting her head as she gives him a hug.

“Indeed, she has been a delight,” the Exarch answers for her with a warm smile.

“The Crystarium’s Starlight tree is truly magnificent,” Urianger compliments as he examines several of the ornaments. “Wherever didst thou procure such a specimen?”

As the Exarch begins to discuss the properties of the local flora and the efforts of the Crystarium’s horticulturalists, Minfilia tugs on Thancred’s sleeve. He leans down dutifully.

“Urianger looks a bit silly in your jacket,” she whispers to him.

Thancred grins. “Only because he’s in my jacket? I hardly noticed, as he looks silly all the time,” he stage-whispers back.

Minfilia hides behind Thancred’s arm as Urianger turns towards them. “If mine attire doth appear absurd, I may take solace from the fact that it is _pragmatic,_ and I am not a gunbreaker who chooseth to don an ivory coat,” he tells Thancred calmly. He then looks at Minfilia and adds, “My dear, we all fall short of thine own resplendent appearance.”

“Is there aught I might do for you before we part ways?” the Exarch breaks in carefully. “I am more than happy to serve as a guide through the festival, if it would be helpful.”

“Nay, we would not impose further upon thy abundant hospitality,” Urianger assures him.

“It’ll be fun to explore!” Minfilia agrees.

Thancred nods alongside her. “Thank you, my friend, but I’m sure there are other ways you’d rather spend your evening, eh? We can manage well enough from here. Give Lyna our regards, would you?”

“I most certainly will,” the Exarch says with a slight nod and grateful smile. “If there is anything at all that you require, pray do not hesitate to seek me out in the Ocular.”

As he takes his leave, Thancred and Urianger turn to Minfilia in unison.

“Well, Minfilia, where would you like to start?” Thancred prompts.

“Oh!” Minfilia says, seeming flustered at being the center of attention. “W-well, the Exarch said there are crafts being hosted in the Mean, if that's alright with you…”

“Crafts sound excellent,” Thancred affirms. “Lead on, then.”

The entirety of the Crystarium is bustling with the festival, but somehow Katliss spots them as soon as they start looking for a place to sit among the many tables that now decorate the Crystalline Mean. “Aren’t you three a sight for sore eyes! I haven’t seen Urianger for, what, six moons now, at least?”

Urianger bows apologetically. “Mine apologies, Mistress Katliss. ’Twas not mine intent to neglect the denizens of the Crystarium, nor indeed thy fine craftsmanship, which hath ever been a boon in mine own travails.”

Katliss waves her hand dismissively. “Oh, I’ll have none of that, now. I know you’ve all got your own important work to do, and I wouldn’t dream of pulling you away from it. ’Sides, the credit’s not rightly mine, seeing as all work done here in the Mean is a group effort. Now, come on, let’s get you a table—if that’s what you’re here for?”

“Indeed,” Thancred assures her, “although there’s no need to go to the trouble—”

“Oh, please, as if helping you out could be a bother, least of all on Starlight’s Eve! Here, we’ve got a small table open over by the Exedra, as it happens.”

They follow Katliss through the Mean’s front to seat themselves at a square table next to the balustrade overlooking the Exedra. They have a fantastic view of the tree from here, and looking around at all the people happily talking amongst themselves as they craft wreaths and ornaments starts to make Thancred’s heart feel warm.

Their own table is strewn with paper and sticks of colored wax, along with small cuts of ribbon, presumably to allow them to turn their art into ornaments.

“And when you finish, make sure to put your ornaments up on the tree, yeah?” Katliss reminds them before leaving them to their own devices.

“Well, it looks like we’ll be drawing,” Thancred announces helpfully. “Minfilia, what colors would you like?”

Minfilia quietly selects a handful of colors before smiling at her guardians. “That’s alright, I can work with whatever you’re not using, anyway.”

Thancred nods before selecting a basic black to start. He’s not even sure what he’s working on until a minute or two in, and then he stops to stare down at his paper in contemplation. He realizes that it’s a recreation (a poor one, to be sure) of what used to be Minfilia’s— _his_ Minfilia’s—favorite ornament to hang on the Starlight tree. It was a spriggan, silly girl, wearing a Starlight hat, and he’s not sure how to feel about the fact that this is what he’s gravitated to. He feels uneasy as he finishes his drawing, feeling that the ornament is somehow off. He means to use red wax to add a bow to the trim of the hat, but when he draws it, he realizes that he’s actually grabbed pink.

“Are you both done with yours?” Minfilia asks excitedly, blessedly interrupting Thancred’s internal debate about whether or not the pink was really an accident.

“Aye, and well eager to see what thou hast created,” Urianger says with a smile.

“No, I want to see yours first!” Minfilia insists.

“Might as well get it over with, then,” Thancred sighs, holding up his approximation of a spriggan in a Starlight hat.

“Oh, that’s lovely!” Minfilia claps as Urianger raises an eyebrow and leans in towards her.

“Dost thou know what it… _is?_ ” he mutters.

“Oh, come now, Urianger, it’s not _that_ bad,” Thancred says in exasperation.

Minfilia squints at it. “It’s, um… it’s a rabbit wearing a Starlight hat!” she concludes confidently.

Thancred puts his paper face down on the table and glares at Urianger. “Go on then, Ser Artiste, what’ve you got?”

Urianger holds up his drawing to reveal a depressingly realistic (and impressively colorful) illustration of Titania’s castle.

Minfilia gasps. “Urianger, that’s amazing!”

“It’s not even Starlight-themed,” Thancred points out pettily.

“’Tis snowing,” Urianger suggests.

“Ah yes, I can see the snow against the white of the paper.”

“Well, I’m not sure that mine is much compared to the two of you,” Minfilia breaks in shyly. “But it means a lot to me, and I hope you like it.”

Thancred is wholly unprepared for the drawing that Minfilia holds up. It’s the three of them, he recognizes instantly, Urianger and himself wearing Starlight hats and Minfilia between them, her own customary pink ribbon replaced with a red and green one.

There’s a long moment of silence as Thancred and Urianger both just look at it. “Minfilia, I...” Thancred feels compelled to say something, but the words die on his lips as emotion overwhelms him and he doesn’t know what to say.

“You don’t like it?” Minfilia asks in a small voice, pulling the drawing back towards her chest.

“Dear Minfilia, thou hast rendered us speechless because we are so touched by thy composition,” Urianger corrects quickly, and Thancred can hear the emotion in his voice, too. “We have not the words to express the depth of our admiration.”

A small smile makes its way back onto Minfilia’s face. “Truly?”

“’Tis beautiful,” Thancred manages.

“Truly, I doubt not but that ’twill be the most radiant ornament upon yonder Starlight tree.”

“Urianger, don’t be silly,” Minfilia giggles, but her eyes are sparkling and Thancred has a strong urge to hug her tight.

Instead, he stands up and simply holds out a hand for her to take. “Well, he’s not wrong, so let’s go light up that tree, shall we?”

Minfilia takes his hand happily, but as they wend their way to the stairs, she breaks away with a gasp and runs over to the edge of the terrace bordering the Temenos Rookery.

“Minfilia!” Thancred calls in exasperation, jogging after her.

“Thancred, look! What are they doing in the Rookery?” she asks once he catches up to her, pointing as something takes off from the far end of the field.

“’Twould appear the trainers are employing their amaro to provide sleigh rides for festival-goers,” Urianger surmises as he joins them.

“Are sleigh rides a traditional Starlight activity?” she asks, craning her neck back to look up at them.

“Indeed, and we can certainly see about going on a sleigh ride, but first we have to hang our ornaments, remember?” Thancred replies.

Minfilia nods eagerly and allows herself to be ushered away from the railing. They make their way down to the Exedra and eventually manage to reach the tree. Thancred and Urianger, neither of them too bothered about where their ornaments go, find places to hang them easily enough. Minfilia bites her lip in concentration as she looks for the right spot to put her own ornament. The lower branches are somewhat crowded—understandably, as many of the craftspeople of these ornaments are children.

“Minfilia, shall I kneel so that thou mayest climb upon my shoulders?” Urianger suggests when her eyes fix on a spot above his head.

“W-would that be alright?” Minfilia asks in surprise. “I wouldn’t want to burden you…”

Urianger smiles softly. “’Twould be mine honor,” he assures her. He kneels down while Thancred helps Minfilia clamber onto his shoulders. Minfilia looks delighted as she towers above the crowd, leaning gently forward to loop the ribbon of her ornament over one of the branches. Thancred, enamored by the sight, briefly squeezes Urianger’s hand. He smiles to himself when Urianger squeezes back.

Once Minfilia is certain her ornament is secure, Urianger leans down again while Thancred helps her back to the ground. “That was so much fun!” she exclaims, then looks up at Thancred. “Can we go to the sleigh rides now, please?”

Thancred nods, but Urianger says, “Pray go on without me, and I shall meet thee in the Rookery when thou dost return from thy excursion.”

Thancred raises an eyebrow at him, but he merely smiles and motions them on, so Thancred sighs in resignation and takes Minfilia’s hand again. “We’ll have more room without his spindly limbs, hm?” he suggests as they turn away from Urianger and make their way back across the Exedra.

As it turns out, the line for the sleigh rides is so long that they’re still a few groups back from the front when Thancred spots Urianger striding towards them across the frosty grass. Urianger smiles and holds a finger to his lips, which makes Thancred narrow his eyes, but he doesn’t say anything as Minfilia also sees him and starts waving her arm while jumping up and down.

“Urianger, you made it!”

“Full glad am I that I will be able to accompany thee, albeit regretful that thou hast been obligated to wait so long in the cold and open air.”

“Oh, I’m alright!” Minfilia assures him. “I don’t know if I’ll ever tire of being outside, no matter the weather,” she adds, looking up at the bright evening sky with a smile. “And the snow is…”

Minfilia trails off as her voice wells up with emotion and she looks back to down to rub at her eyes. Thancred kneels down and puts a hand on her shoulder. “Minfilia, are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m just—,” she sniffs, “I’m just so _happy._ ”

“Group of three?” a jovial voice calls from up ahead, and Thancred looks up to see a Zun beckoning them towards the empty sleigh next to him.

Thancred smiles at Minfilia as he stands back up. “Come now, you won’t see much of Lakeland if you’ve got tears in your eyes,” he teases gently as they make their way forward.

Urianger helps Minfilia into the sleigh before stepping in himself, then turns to offer Thancred a hand to help him climb up after them.

“Right, all settled in?” the trainer confirms as Thancred seats himself next to Minfilia and across from Urianger. “Off you go, then! Enjoy!”

The swoop Thancred feels as they take off is not unlike the sensation of Urianger Rescuing him, and for a moment he instinctively braces himself for battle. Urianger looks at him with concern even as he relaxes, but he merely waves it off and looks over to see how Minfilia is doing.

Any trace of tears seems to be gone as she clings to the side of the sleigh and looks out over an increasingly small Crystarium.

“You can see so much of Lakeland!” she cries in amazement as they start to pull out over the Chiliad.

“Indeed… ’Tis fair breathtaking,” Urianger admires.

Lakeland from this high up truly is a sight to behold. The forests, for the most part, are evergreen (everpurple?) and the soft colors peek up at them through the light coating of snow. The lake itself sparkles to the southwest, glinting colorful in the bright twilight.

Thancred, however, has trouble tearing his eyes away from the breathtaking sights within the sleigh itself. Minfilia’s expression of awe and delight is wholly endearing, but mostly hidden from him as she’s turned away to stare over the side of the sleigh. Thancred thus finds himself looking across at Urianger, whose shoulders still look _very good_ in Thancred’s jacket. Urianger’s hair blows softly in the wind as he looks alternately out at Lakeland and over to Minfilia, a warm smile coming across his face whenever he does so. Thancred is unprepared when that smile is suddenly directed at him, widening when Urianger realizes he’s been staring.

“Why dost thou not enjoy the view?” Urianger whispers, leaning in so as not to distract Minfilia.

“Oh, I am,” Thancred assures him, sitting back with satisfaction when Urianger’s expression slackens in surprise as he processes Thancred’s meaning.

Urianger tsks as he looks determinedly back out towards the Crystarium, a slight blush rising in his cheeks that has Thancred smiling with pride and affection.

“Do you know why Laxan Loft is abandoned?” Minfilia asks suddenly as they pass over the impressive ruins.

Thancred groans. “Did you really have to ask a history question right now?”

“Sorry,” she says contritely, not understanding the reason for Thancred’s admonition, “it’s just so beautiful, I can’t imagine anyone wanting to leave it—not that the Crystarium isn’t much prettier!" she quickly adds.

“We’re not offended, we didn’t have any hand in creating it,” Thancred jokes. 

“Though,” Urianger muses aloud, “that thou speakest of the Crystarium’s founding doth induce me to apprehend that I yet know little of it. While I sojourn within the Crystarium and have at my disposal the means, I must entreat the Exarch, though I know not how much he might deem fit to impart.”

“Yes, tomorrow you and the Exarch can discuss the intricacies of laying cobblestones while Minfilia and I take on the Crystarium’s guard for a bout of sparring.”

“What, all of them?” Minfilia sounds equal parts horrified and excited by the idea. 

“Between the two of us, it should be almost an even match for them,” Thancred assures her. 

“For one who was but earlier this evening so eager to stave off Mistress Lyna’s ire, thou speakest cavalierly in the presence of others who would fain relate this lively conversation.”

“I don't speak lowly of the guard, I speak highly of Minfilia,” Thancred counters. 

Urianger raises an eyebrow. “And thyself?”

“Aye, and myself,” Thancred agrees quickly. “And let me add that you wouldn’t dare tell her anything—if you would kindly remember, I do know about the time those pixies—”

“ _Yes,_ thy meaning is well taken,” Urianger cuts him off, a tad louder than necessary.

Minfilia holds a mittened hand up to her mouth to stifle her giggles and Urianger turns to regard her with horror. “Art _thou_ familiar with the incident of which Thancred speaketh?”

“Oh, no,” Minfilia says cheerfully, “I was just—you two are funny, sometimes.” She turns back to the edge of the sleigh and looks down at the lake with a smile, while Thancred and Urianger turn to look at each other.

 _Funny?_ Thancred mouths in bemusement. Urianger shrugs, equally perplexed.

They arrive back at the Rookery uneventfully, thanking the trainer who attends to their amaro as they disembark. Thancred helps Minfilia hop down, and as soon as her feet hit the ground her stomach lets out a loud growl.

“S-sorry,” she says, reddening in embarrassment, “I suppose I haven’t eaten since about midday.”

“Nay, the blame lieth with us for neglecting thy nourishment,” Urianger assures her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Thancred realizes he feels a bit peckish himself, and he spots a food stall on the edge of the Rookery near the Rotunda. “Here, let’s get some food in you,” he suggests, pointing them towards the stand and leading the way.

“Welcome, sinners! Might I interest you in some pirozhki?” the cheerful Ronso peddler greets them as they approach the food stall.

“Ooh, what is it?” Minfilia asks excitedly, peering at the baskets of what appear to be oval-shaped buns.

“Ah, if this is your first time having pirozhki, you are in for a Starlight treat, young one! Small meat pies stuffed with potatoes, mushrooms, cheese, cabbage, nuts—we have a wide variety for whatever might suit your tastes! Pirozhki will fill you right up, and warm your tummy to boot!”

Thancred leans in towards Urianger as Minfilia eagerly asks about the fillings in each basket of pirozhki. “Are these not the gyoza they make in Doma?” he asks in surprise.

Urianger frowns. “I cannot say for certain, particularly when one accounteth for the myriad differences betwixt the Source and the First, but the dough seemeth to be of a different consistency, and the pie as a whole doth strike me as overall heavier than the gyoza with which we are acquainted.”

“Thancred, can I have one of each?” Minfilia spins around with pleading eyes.

“One of—? Very well,” Thancred sighs, eyes scanning the booth to try to ascertain how many different kinds there _are._

“An excellent choice!” the vendor cries happily. “My friends, you do well by your daughter on this happy day.”

“Our _dau_ —”

“Our most heartfelt thanks, sinner,” Urianger replies, stepping forward to pay for the food while Thancred stands there with his mouth slightly open.

Minfilia munches happily on a pirozhki, holding a basket half the size of her torso with one arm as they round the corner onto the Rotunda. Her head perks up towards Sweetsieve as they draw closer and realize that there’s music coming from the gardens. “Oh, can we listen to the concert while we eat?”

“A wonderful idea,” Thancred agrees, recovering from his shock, curious himself about the music that might be played during Starlight here on the First.

They’re pleasantly surprised to find open seating. Thancred and Urianger settle themselves on either side of Minfilia, who offers them a pirozhki she’s not fond of. The band on the makeshift stage is lively, and Thancred settles into a sense of contentment as he watches Minfilia and Urianger share pirozhkis and lets the music wash over him.

A song comes to an end, and Thancred claps along with everyone else as the vocalist bows and takes leave of the stage.

“Thank you, Qeshi-Rae, for sharing your lovely voice with us!” the fiddler yells as the singer makes her way to a seat in the crowd. “Now, who might be joining us up here next?”

It is not easy to catch Thancred Waters by surprise. He supposes he’s let himself grow lax with everything going on, which he deeply regrets, because before he knows what’s happening, a lithe hand grabs his arm, which is suddenly in the air, and the crowd is cheering.

“Excellent, excellent!” the fiddler cries, beckoning him up towards the stage.

“ _Urianger,_ ” Thancred hisses as Minfilia nudges him to his feet and claps excitedly. Urianger smiles serenely at him and gestures towards the waiting band.

Thancred grits his teeth and smiles as he makes his way to the dais. He's entirely unprepared, can’t remember the last time he performed, and he’s not even sure he’ll know any of the songs in the band’s repertoire. If Urianger wanted to have a laugh, he should’ve raised his own damned hand.

“Thancred, ’s an honor!” one of the band members says almost reverently as he steps up onto the stage.

“Please, don’t expect too much of me,” he replies with a wry smile.

“You’ll be terrific,” the fiddler assures him. “You familiar with ‘Les Anges dans nos campagnes’?”

“I am, actually,” Thancred says, surprised.

The fiddler smiles. “Thought you might be, seeing as it’s one of the Exarch’s favorites, and you being from the same place and all.”

Ah, that makes sense. Well, there goes his plan to bow out with the excuse of ignorance.

Resigning himself to his fate, Thancred clears his throat as the fiddler plays a starting note for him. He nods and the band starts playing.

Singing comes naturally, he finds, and he doesn’t know why it surprises him. As soon as he gets past the first line, he forgets his reluctance and throws himself into song. It’s over before he knows it, and he’s startled but gratified to find the crowd on its feet. He tries not to give himself too much credit, knowing that many of these people are already disposed to regard him favorably, but performing again feels… good.

There are cries for an encore, but Thancred declines—he doesn’t want to use his reputation to deprive others of the chance to join in. He waves congenially as he makes his way back to his seat.

Urianger smiles knowingly at him as he approaches. Thancred tries to look exasperated, but he’s pretty sure he just looks fond.

“Thancred, that was incredible!” Minfilia gasps as he retakes his seat next to her. “Why haven’t you sung for us before?”

“Er… I don’t suppose there was any real occasion for it,” he replies uncomfortably.

“Occasions can be made as well as seized,” Urianger observes sagely.

“You see what occasions I can make for you to sing, and then we’ll see who’s—”

“Shh, the next song is starting!” Minfilia shushes them, offering Thancred a pirozhki.

Thancred accepts it contritely and settles in to simply enjoy the food and the music. Despite the dire consequences of his nonchalance just now, he reflects on how nice it is to _relax,_ for once, and tries not to think about how different things might be in just a few short days. He looks over at Minfilia, who watches the concert enrapt and delighted, and Urianger, whose eyes are closed as he no doubt analyzes the intricacies of the unfamiliar music, fingers tapping on his arm.

Thancred wonders, not for the first time in his life, how in the seven hells he finds himself so lucky.

As pleasant as the musical celebration is, it can’t last forever, and Thancred realizes it’s time to get moving when he notices Minfilia shivering next to him.

“Well, I don’t know about the two of you, but I’m freezing,” he says as soon as the song ends. “Shall we relocate to someplace with a bit more insulation?”

“Aye, ’twould be a boon to mine ears,” Urianger agrees. After recovering from an initial moment of shock, temporarily misinterpreting his words as insult, Thancred notices how red his ears are. He only feels a little bad for finding it somewhat cute. Honestly, if Urianger had just remembered to bring his cloak, he would have a hood and no cause to complain about cold ears.

“Minfilia, I regret to admit that I have neglected to acquire in advance any Starlight gifts for thee,” Urianger confesses as they take their leave of Sweetsieve. “Circumstances being as they are, mightst thou desire to peruse the markets of Musica Universalis and select thine own presents according to thy preferences?”

“Can I really?” Minfilia asks excitedly.

Urianger nods with a smile. “I can think of no greater gift thou couldst confer upon me than to allow me to bring thee joy.”

Thancred feels a pang of guilt in his chest. “Here, Minfilia,” he says, “give me that basket and go into the markets with Urianger. I’ll return it to the merchant and meet you there.”

Minfilia nods and hands over the empty basket. Thancred turns away from them and immediately grits his teeth in frustration.

He hasn’t thought to get a gift for Minfilia _or_ Urianger.

As he makes his way back to the Rookery and returns the basket, he wonders if he can manage to find something quickly for each before he meets back up with them. What would he even get them, though? He can’t think of anything that would interest Urianger more than the books he has at the Shelves, and Minfilia—he wouldn’t even know where to start.

Although his stress levels only rise as he enters Musica Universalis, Thancred is relieved by the warmth granted by the domed covering and dense crowds. He shakes some feeling back into his arms and hands, which feel strangely light without his vambraces, as he resigns himself to browsing the goods and services on offer. As he passes stall after stall, it begins to feel like a fruitless endeavor, but he holds out hope that he’ll be able to find suitable gifts before he runs into Minfilia and Urianger—

Apparently literally.

“Urianger!” Thancred says in surprise, instinctively reaching out to help him, although he himself seems to be the only one who’s been thrown off-balance by the collision.

“Mine apologies. It seems I was but a moment too late in announcing my presence,” Urianger replies, taking Thancred’s outstretched arm to help steady him in return. “Wert thou encountering difficulties in locating Minfilia and myself?”

“Ah, well…,” Thancred starts guiltily, then looks around in concern. “Where is Minfilia?”

Urianger purses his lips. Most people assume this expression is one of disapproval, but Thancred knows it means he’s trying not to smile, and he finds it incredibly endearing. “She hath insisted upon selecting a present for _me_ before choosing anything for herself, and thus have I been banished until she findeth a suitable gift,” Urianger explains. “We agreed to meet by the aethernet shard, if thou desirest to accompany me?”

Thancred hesitates before groaning and running a hand down his face. “I haven’t gotten anything for her either, you see.”

Urianger raises an eyebrow. “I suppose I cannot fault thee for sins of which I myself am guilty, though I might defend myself that I am not her constant guardian.”

“I know, I know,” Thancred sighs, “it just didn’t… occur to me. I can’t for the life of me settle on something she might enjoy, though. What do you get a teenager on the run from the First’s mightiest military power for Starlight?” he half-jokes.

Urianger considers him carefully. “Thou didst bestow upon her thine own daggers when thou didst take up her training, yes?”

“Yes, and I can assure you that I do not use nor would I give Minfilia weapons that are not of the highest—”

“I think,” Urianger interrupts firmly, “that Minfilia needeth not live in thy shadow, as well, when the shadow of the Minfilia of eld doth already weigh so heavy upon her shoulders.”

Thancred considers this. He had never thought of it that way, but he realizes that Urianger is right—not only does Minfilia feel a need to live up to her namesake’s legacy, but she must certainly feel the pressure of mastering Thancred’s own craft under his tutelage. He can see how having her very own daggers might shift her perception of the undertaking. And it’s not like the Crystarium has any shortage of skilled artisans who would be more than happy to fashion custom blades for the Exarch’s companions. They can make a day of it tomorrow—in fact, it sounds quite fun, now that he thinks about it.

“That… is an excellent suggestion,” he agrees, and feels like a weight is lifted off his chest as he recognizes the good this might do for the girl. He looks up and Urianger is smiling at him, looking both proud and affectionate.

Thancred smiles at him in return and places a hand on the small of his back. “Shall we make for the aethernet shard, then?”

As they tuck themselves into a corner behind the shard, Thancred suddenly stiffens in realization and then lets his shoulders drop. Urianger looks at him with concern and Thancred sighs.

“While we’re being honest,” he admits, “I didn’t think to get anything for you, either, and just as with Minfilia, I haven’t been able to find anything here that feels right. You’re a difficult man to shop for, you know.”

After a pause, Urianger looks him up and down, and Thancred’s breath catches at the look in his eyes. “Indeed? Though I care little and less for trinkets, I can most certainly think of other ways in which thou mightst grace me with thy favors,” Urianger says slyly.

“Oh? And what leads you to believe I might indulge you?” Thancred counters, hand going to Urianger’s hip.

“Experience is ever a generous teacher,” Urianger murmurs.

“Thancred! Urianger! There you are!”

Thancred drops his hand and tries very hard to stop the train of thought he just got on.

“Minfilia,” Urianger says warmly. “Are we now permitted to join thee in thy perusals?”

Minfilia nods happily. “Yes, although I must say, it will be so hard to choose…”

“There is no need to hurry,” Urianger assures her. “Pray take whatever time thou dost require.”

“Aye, don’t rush yourself,” Thancred echoes. “We’ll be right behind you.”

Minfilia leads the way back into the crowd, and as they walk, Thancred feels Urianger’s fingers brush against his own. He smiles to himself as he takes Urianger’s hand and tugs him a little closer. When he sneaks a glance, Urianger looks surprised, but undeniably pleased.

Thancred can’t blame him. He himself feels warmly content to spend the latter half of the evening watching Minfilia take in the wares with excitement and delight, Urianger close at his side. Minfilia considers aloud the pros and cons of each item that catches her attention, and Thancred and Urianger weigh in when prompted. When all is said and done, Minfilia has a very nice new traveling cloak and a book on the history of Laxan Loft.

They decide to seek a table at the Wandering Stairs to rest and, perhaps, to partake of dessert. As they make their way up to the tavern, Minfilia hugs her gifts to her chest and thanks Urianger profusely.

“My dear, I prithee think nothing of it,” Urianger insists. “Thy joy is my blessing. I but wish I could do more for thee.”

They’re only able to find a bench in the busy establishment, but Minfilia assures them that a table isn’t necessary. As she and Urianger settle in, Thancred offers to put in their orders at the bar. Minfilia decides on a simple hot chocolate, which Urianger seconds, so Thancred figures he might as well make it three.

As he waits for their orders to be made, Thancred leans against the bar and looks over at the other two. Minfilia is giggling at an animated story Urianger is telling—Twelve only know what embarrassing anecdote he’s managed to recall now—and Thancred finds himself wishing that they could go back to the Bookman’s Shelves with Urianger and just… stay there.

He shakes his head as if he might physically dispel the hopeless fantasy, and is relieved when Glynard pushes three mugs towards him, pulling him out of his thoughts. He finds a way to grab all three with two hands and nods his thanks before threading through the tables back towards their bench.

“...and that is why Mistress Tataru hath never again entrusted our dear Thancred with kitchen duties,” Urianger is telling Minfilia gravely as Thancred draws within earshot.

“Excuse me, Minfilia can vouch for my ability to keep us alive and well-fed,” Thancred counters as he passes out hot chocolates.

“It’s true,” Minfilia says quickly, clearly trying very hard not to laugh.

Thancred sighs. “Go on, it was admittedly something of a disaster.”

Minfilia giggles once, then twice, then bursts into laughter. Urianger laughs along with her—a warm, rich sound that Thancred could listen to forever but rarely gets to hear. Despite his conviction to remain wounded, the laughter is contagious and Thancred finds himself joining in as he sits very deliberately between the two of them.

Once they quiet down, Minfilia looks down at her hot chocolate with a smile. “Thank you, both of you, for everything today,” she says softly.

“Don’t thank us yet,” Thancred jokes, “we’ve still got all of tomorrow for things to go wrong.”

At this, Minfilia gives him a _look_ that is so reminiscent of the original Minfilia that Thancred almost does a double take.

“If Thancred doth insist upon cynicism, rest assured that I shall accompany thee on thy joyous Starlight’s Day excursions.”

“It’ll still be the three of us, right?” Minfilia asks, and the hope in her voice reminds Thancred of his own musings at the bar.

“Yes, of course it will be,” he assures her. “Try as he might, Urianger can’t get rid of me that easily.” Urianger tsks and lightly bumps Thancred’s shoulder.

The three of them chat comfortably over their hot chocolates for a spell, but as the drinks begin to grow cold, Minfilia struggles to keep her eyes open and starts to lean more heavily against Thancred. When she falls asleep on his shoulder shortly thereafter, Thancred gently takes her new traveling cloak and drapes it over her.

When he turns back to Urianger, he finds him smiling softly at him. “What?” Thancred asks, unsure of why he sounds defensive.

“Thou givest not thyself enough credit,” Urianger says quietly, wary of waking Minfilia.

“Credit for what, pray tell?”

Urianger takes his hand. “Of all the reasons I love thee, perhaps utmost is the extent to which thou art caring and protective of others.” Urianger’s smile becomes a little sadder. “Although I do once again beseech thee to relinquish some of thy burden and rely more consistently upon others—upon me.”

Thancred flushes and turns to look back at Minfilia. “You know my answer to that.”

After a moment, gentle fingers caress his cheek and turn his face back towards Urianger, who looks contrite. “’Twas not mine intention to sow conflict,” he says, “neither within thyself nor betwixt us twain. Pray accept mine apologies if I have caused thee distress.”

Thancred huffs an exhale but smiles. “My love, you have an uncanny knack for causing me distress, but today has been remarkably distress-free, so don’t worry yourself over that now.”

Urianger smiles back, appeased, and looks down at their mostly-empty mugs. “Shall I return our tankards to the establishment?” he offers.

“If you would be so kind,” Thancred agrees, gesturing towards Minfilia, “I’m a bit tied up at the moment.”

As Urianger makes his way to the bar, Thancred allows himself to watch him walk away and shamelessly wishes he wore something that showed off his ass with more definition. His gaze isn’t any less amorous as Urianger walks back towards him, and Urianger smiles in exasperation.

“Don’t give me that look,” Thancred whispers as he sits back down. “Which one of us started talking about ‘favors’ in the middle of the markets, hm?”

“’Twas hardly the _middle_ of the markets,” Urianger replies, but he looks appropriately chastened.

“Hey,” Thancred realizes, nudging Urianger with his shoulder, “what was it you were being all secretive about earlier?”

For a moment, an undecipherable look crosses Urianger’s face, but then something clicks, and the look is gone so quickly that Thancred is left to wonder if he simply imagined it.

“The Exarch bid us seek him out if we required his assistance,” Urianger explains with a smile, “and loathe though I was to disrupt his repose, he had not long departed and I felt with some urgency that it was prudent to ensure we acquire Minfilia’s ornament once the Starlight tree is divested.”

Thancred’s heart swells. “She’ll love that,” he says quietly.

The bell strikes somewhere in Crystarium, and Thancred looks up at the sky through the domed glass ceiling, wishing heartily that they could gaze upon starlight instead of the hellish flood that expands endlessly above them.

When he looks up, though, he’s surprised by the botanic decoration floating above them. He can’t help but chuckle, which prompts Urianger to look up as well.

“Ah.”

“Yes,” Thancred agrees.

Urianger looks away from the kissing ball and fixes Thancred with a sultry smile. “’Twould be dishonorable to shirk custom,” he suggests.

Thancred can’t tear his eyes away from Urianger’s lips. “Disgraceful, indeed.”

Urianger leans in and kisses him softly.

“Happy Starlight, _isne eom._ ”


End file.
